Deidara: Method behind the Madness
by A-Mae-100
Summary: We all know Deidara's REAL background. He was an idiotic,hard-headed artist whose actions got him sucked into the Akatsuki...But there are other stories of Deidara's past that haven't been told.  COMPLETED EARLY DUE TO LACK OF REVIEWS
1. Chapter 1: Insanity

Four things before you begin reading:

1) Everything in this story is purely my imagination and is not the actual story how Masashi Kishimoto intended it.

2) Another chapter is to follow this one, so don't just think that this is all I've written.

3) Please leave reviews, it helps a lot! ..But please be constructive...don't flame no matter how much you hate it.

4) I hope you enjoy!

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Deidara couldn't believe it. His mind just couldn't process the thought. An Uchiha…_Sasuke _Uchiha had defeated him. Was it even possible? Was he truly going to die? After all these years of believing his art was superior…was he just being foolish? As he stared into the emotionless eyes of his opponent, his hatred was forced up to its boiling point, and he screamed with an uncontrollable rage.

"DAMN YOU! YOU'RE JUST LIKE YOUR BROTHER!" He roared, digging his nails into the soft earth beneath him. "Those eyes….they're not true art! How can you defeat my masterpiece with those goddamned eyes?" Sasuke said nothing, but narrowed his eyes, which faded back from the Sharingan to their original lifeless black. "….Can you say nothing? Do you think so highly of yourself that you believe me not worthy of speaking to?" Deidara growled, snorting with contempt and laughing bitterly. "You Uchihas are so full of yourselves!"

"You sure speak foolishly for someone who is about to be killed." Sasuke said at last, looking down his nose at Deidara, who, despite his pitiful condition, was struggling to his feet, glaring intensely at his enemy.

"I'm not going to die here…You won't kill me…" Deidara sneered, his legs shaking upon the effort of standing. His arms hung limp and useless at his sides, the pain of using them too much to bear.

"Can you afford to take that chance?" Sasuke challenged, taking a confident step forward. Deidara flinched despite himself, and no matter how much he tried to tell himself that he was never going to be beaten, the truth was inevitable. The great artist had finally been brought down.

"Don't take another step closer….!" The artist yelled, taking a hesitant step backwards. His knees buckled beneath him and caused him to stumble painfully back onto the ground.

"You talk tough, but you're just a big coward…" Sasuke taunted. He glared at Deidara and smirked with triumph. That's when Deidara saw it. Those eyes….those eyes that had haunted him for years on end. Those eyes that had torn him apart from the inside out since his childhood….they were before him once more. The eyes of a killer thirsting for blood, and Deidara was a victim to them once again. He cried out at the realization, and at that moment his past came rushing back to his memory, fresh in his mind as if it had happened just yesterday.

At first all he could see was blood. On the walls, the ground, on his hands, and the air reeked of death. He was running, eyes streaming with tears of terror, disbelief, and panic, trying to shake the violent scene out of his mind. They were dead…each of them, gone, just like that. No matter how hard he tried to forget, his mind was still tainted with that horrifying image. The glazed over eyes of a dead man gazing up at him, its face frozen in a last scream of shock, the blood still oozing from its torn open neck.

Then the image changed, and Deidara was no longer running, but he was sitting calmly in his home on the floor, flipping through a book and frowning with boredom. He was rather young, at least 10 years old, and his long blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail. He sighed, throwing the book aside and flopping down on the ground. He reached for the bookshelf in search of literature that might satisfy him. He had already read most of the books in his house at least once, and before long, he had outgrown the books that his parents bought for him and went through his parent's collection of novels instead.

"Deidara? What…what are you DOING here?" A voice shrieked, rushing into the room in a fuss. It was a tall, attractive, blonde woman, her hair reaching down as far as the back of her legs. It was none other than Deidara's mother, who stormed up to the young Deidara and grabbed his arm. "I thought that you went to the academy hours ago! Your final exam was today!" she yelled shrilly, pulling the stubborn boy to his feet.

"I didn't want to take the final exam, so I came home." He explained, frowning. "I don't see what the big deal is."

His mother shook his shoulders vigorously, narrowing her eyes and growling threateningly, "Just wait until your father hears about this…." She pulled him through the house by his arm, shaking her head. "Maybe there's still time…you better hope that they haven't started the test yet…" she huffed, dragging Deidara through the streets towards the academy building.

Deidara pushed and fought to pull his mother's hand off of him. "Let go! I'm not going back there!" he screamed stubbornly, pulling in the opposite direction. Finally, just steps from the academy, Deidara was able to squirm free of her grasp, and he darted away as fast as he could. Turning his head to look back at his fuming mother, he smirked and held up his hand, the mouth on it sticking out its tongue mockingly.

"DEIDARA, GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!" She screamed viciously, taking off after him, drawing the attention of everyone near her.

Deidara ran faster still, laughing to himself and making a straight line for the village gates. Once he was outside of those walls, there was no limit to where he could hide, and he didn't have to follow the village's stupid rules.

Just as he took a running jump to make a classy escape through the border, he ran head-on into a man, sending both of them crashing to the ground. The young artist rubbed his head and glared at the person who had stopped him, yelling furiously. "Hey! What's the big id-"He suddenly stopped as he realized exactly who he had run into, swallowing hard and looking up nervously into the man's face.

The man had a strong, gentle look about him, and had golden hair that hung down slightly below his shoulders. "H-Hello father…." Deidara stammered, staring pitifully into his father's confused blue eyes.

"Deidara…what…? Aren't you supposed to be in school right now…?" Deidara's father asked, pushing himself to his feet and then helping Deidara back onto his.

Deidara looked down at the ground, trailing his foot in the dirt guiltily. "Well….I…I didn't want to go to school today…" he muttered.

His father sighed and shook his head in disappointment. "….you can't keep doing that….I won't have you expelled from this academy too…." He said sternly, folding his arms and staring down at his son.

Deidara nodded, unable to respond to his father out of shame. This wasn't the first time that he had to be scolded for skipping school. In fact, it was just one of many dozen times. The first academy that he attended was just on the outskirts of the village, and Deidara loathed it more than anything. All the other students there hated him, and he hated them just as much for what they did to him.

He tried to mind his own business in the corner of the classroom, attempting to hide the mouths on his hands, but no matter what he did to keep quiet, the other students would shove him around day after day. They kicked him, mocked him, and what enraged him the most was how they ridiculed his passion for art. Oh, how it made him furious… His parents had always encouraged his artwork despite the fact that they didn't quite understand it, but not everyone was as sympathetic as Deidara's parents.

Before long, he began skipping school to stay home where his art could be appreciated. Besides, nothing in school interested him anymore; the lessons were just too easy for him.

To Deidara's great pleasure, he was expelled from the first school for his constant absences and refusal to participate, but his parents managed to find a solution to that quickly by finding him a new school that would accept him.

"THERE you are! Can you believe this?" Deidara's mother cried after catching up with the two of them. She glared down at Deidara, and then looked up at her husband, yelling once again, "This is the tenth time this month! I won't stand for it anymore!"

Deidara looked up at his mother, shrinking away when she glowered at him, and then stared at his father, hoping for him to come to his aid.

Deidara's father said nothing, but shook his head with disappointment, resting his face in his palm and muttering something inaudible.

"…Do you realize what this means? Our son….yes, YOUR son's final exam is TODAY." The angry woman growled, waiting for her husband's reaction.

Immediately the man's posture stiffened and he bellowed in disbelief. "What? Of all days, Deidara….you have to be a pain in the ass today? Good god…If we're lucky you'll still make it for the test!" Deidara's father grabbed the boy by his shoulders and began guiding him hastily toward his school.

When they finally arrived, much to Deidara's dismay, the exams were just about through, but they reluctantly agreed to carry on with Deidara's assessment despite his tardiness. Waiting at the door of the academy was none other than Deidara's teacher, his arms folded crossly. Deidara's sensei sighed deeply and waved Deidara's parents away.

Deidara's teacher was rather tall and lanky with short black hair, and most of the time, Hiroshi-sensei wore a broad, joyful smile on his face. However, on this particular day, Hiroshi was obviously not smiling.

"So…what's your excuse this time, Deidara?" He interrogated, guiding Deidara down a hallway to the test room.

"….Rogue ninja attack?" Deidara offered, smiling innocently up at his teacher.

"Sorry. You used that last week." His sensei replied, laughing despite himself.

"How about….A super secret mission?"

"Nope."

"….Saving kittens from a fire?"

"That was yesterday's excuse."

"Rats…"

Now both of the young men were smiling as they walked down the corridor, laughing softly as they approached the test room.

Although Deidara loathed the experience of the ninja academy, he enjoyed learning from Hiroshi-sensei because of his teacher's laid back personality, and also because he was the only person that Deidara knew, besides his parents, who could tolerate Deidara's vision of art.

"Hey…Hiroshi-sensei?" Deidara looked up at his teacher in hopes of a response. His teacher acknowledged the question with a quick grunt and a glance in Deidara's direction, his stern eyes not corresponding with his smiling face. "…Do you think my art is…stupid? Be honest…" Deidara asked at last, choking out the words with very much difficulty.

Hiroshi stopped walking and sighed deeply, resting his hand on Deidara's head. "Stupid? Of course not! Now…is your art unique? Now we have a different answer... Stupid and unique are two totally different things. Just look around this village and you'll see all sorts of people who claim to be superior, whether it be with their jutsu, their fighting style, or whatever the hell they say is best. When I compare those people to you, I see something that others don't. Your jutsu are special, Deidara. No one else could match that artistry… You're very intelligent, and you should value that skill, not question it." He ruffled Deidara's hair and smiled as he opened the doors to the assessment room, urging Deidara inside before slowly walking away.

The young artist swallowed hard and made his way little by little to the center of the room, turning to face his superiors.

"You're late." One of the three observed, drumming his fingers impatiently on his desk.

Deidara could do nothing but mutter a quick and shameful apology before another man spoke.

"We won't tolerate any disappointments today, Deidara. Now, first, please demonstrate the art of transformation."

"_Too easy…" _Deidara thought, making a quick hand seal and transforming into the first thing that came to his mind, which was his teacher, Hiroshi. "Can I leave now?" Deidara mumbled, transforming back to his original self and folding his arms.

"Not yet…we haven't even gotten started…" the first of the three hissed, narrowing his eyes.

Deidara smirked at the challenge and proceeded to tackle each and every trial thrown at him. He completed the clone jutsu with ease, struck the center of every target each time when practicing with kunai and shuriken, and by doing so, stunned the instructors into silence.

"There is one last test for you to complete…" The third finally spoke up after fumbling with his brush and writing something sloppily down on the paper in front of him. "You must-"

'Yeah, yeah I know…" Deidara stopped him midway, "Demonstrate a jutsu that I have prepared in advance and it can't be something I learned in school…I've taken this test before…"

"…Very well…" the man growled, folding his arms, "..Show us what you've been working on..Since you apparently know everything.."

The young man smirked and eagerly reached into his pack full of clay, taking out a handful and holding it high in the air. "This jutsu I have developed on my own…by combining the beauty of art and the destruction required to win battles…I have created an all new form of artwork…Behold!" Deidara clamped his hand shut for a moment, then released his fist into an open hand. Now, instead of a glob of clay, there was a mold in the precise shape of a bird resting on his palm. "It is not only appealing to the eye…but it can also explode, and in doing so, it reaches its full potential! My art does not just sit on a shelf and wither as it ages…it stays beautiful even through death…" the passionate artist concluded, lowering his hand and staring into the eyes of his evaluators, patiently awaiting a response.

"….Very strange boy.." one of them whispered.

"Yes…strange indeed…." Another replied skeptically.

Deidara's anger began to rise and he grinded his teeth together at the insult, throwing the art at a nearby target in the corner of the room. "Just watch! I can prove it to you!" he yelled, forming a hand seal hastily and closing his eyes, thinking. Although Deidara sounded confident, inwardly, he had his misgivings about the art he was about to demonstrate. He had only tested the jutsu once, and it had happened completely by accident. Deidara had meant to make the clay creature move, almost like a puppet master jutsu, but because he lacked experience in that field, Deidara used a dangerous amount of chakra on the clay, causing a devastating explosion that reduced a portion of the land to a crater in the earth. Luckily though, Deidara was smart enough to practice this deep in the woods of his village, and no one but him was injured.

Despite his many uncertainties about his new jutsu, Deidara completed the jutsu with an emission of chakra after a quick glare at his superiors.

There was a bright flash of light, an earth-rattling boom, and in half a second, the target on which the clay bird perched was reduced to rubble, as well as a majority of the targets around it.

Deidara opened his eyes and sighed quietly with relief, turning around and facing the critics with a triumphant smirk. "Now do you respect my art?" he began, raising a hand in the air, displaying the mouth on it shamelessly. "You fools ramble on and on of your superiority…but it is because of your stupidity that you are too blind to see the secrets that lie all around you…Look beyond this village and you will see a world in which my art can be displayed on..a canvas that I may paint to any image! Your jutsu may last one battle…whereas mine can leave a legacy for a lifetime!" Deidara finished, his chest heaving with the growing amount of strain on his breathing as his anger came to a boil.

"The boy is mad!" one of the men cried, his hand still resting on his heart from the sudden shock of the explosion.

"Completely insane!" another added, rising out of his chair.

"Sanity is for the fools who are afraid to take chances!" Deidara roared back. "If being insane is the only way I may carry out my passion, then insane I will be!" With that, the infuriated artist reached into his pack and pulled out a handful of clay, molding it into a spider before tossing it onto the desk of his frightened teachers.

Then, without another word, Deidara fled from the room and completed the art with a hand seal. The last thing Deidara heard was a scream and an explosion before he ran for his life.


	2. Chapter 2: Banishment

Although very short (and slightly rushed), I present to you: Chapter 2~!

Allow me to say a few things before I begin:

1) All concepts in this story are NOT the way that Masashi Kishimoto intended them.

2) Don't flame, no matter how much you hate it.

3) Review please; I'd love to hear how I can improve. :3

4) Please enjoy!

Chapter 3 is on its way~!

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Deidara ran out of energy somewhere outside the village gates, where the terrain was rocky and all around him loomed enormous, impassable boulders. Still, even with his tired feet and heavy heart, he attempted to find a way around. Before long though, the artist collapsed in the middle of a clearing with weariness, nothing left to do but sit and think, all hope almost lost. After a few minutes of letting the frantic pounding in his head subside, Deidara began to weigh his options.

He knew well that his actions could be punishable by banishment. He had known that from the moment he threw the explosive, but even so, he had never thought about what might happen if his victims might actually be dead. In fact, the more he thought about it, banishment didn't hold a candle to the punishment for murder. _Death._ Deidara shivered at the thought. He had never meant to _kill _anyone, but for some reason, he doubted that any witnesses would believe that. The artist hugged his knees to his chest, the world around him becoming suddenly cold, as if his thoughts of death had chilled the air. The atmosphere only amplified the growing feeling of helplessness in Deidara's heart, which soon began to cause panic.

"I can never go back…Never…They'll kill me… I can't go back…" he whispered slowly, each word lingering long after he had said it, hanging over his head as if to assure he wouldn't forget.

Suddenly, the sharp crack of a branch cut through the air, wiping Deidara's mind of all other thoughts except for one: "_They're here. They're here to kill me." _Soundlessly and carefully, the artist reached into his pack, withdrawing clay and molding it into a spider, preparing to throw it at the first sign of his assailant. Sure enough, as soon as a foot was seen stepping out from behind a tree, Deidara's explosive clay was already sailing towards the unknown figure. His attack did not reach very far, though, before it was deflected with the quick toss of a kunai knife.

"No need to attack, you have no enemies here." The figure said almost sympathetically, taking another step out of the woods.

Under the cover of the trees, Deidara still could not see the man's face, but his familiar voice caused Deidara's tense muscles to relax, and he whispered hesitantly, "…Hiroshi? Is it just you…no one else?"

His teacher smiled and sighed, "No one else…", then walked slowly over to Deidara, taking a seat on the ground next to his student.

For a while, the two just sat there silently without eye contact or movement, and the only sound that could be heard was the soft rustle of the wind and trees. Finally, voice strained and shaking, Deidara spoke. "…Did...Did I kill them?"

Hiroshi shook his head slowly. "No…only wounded…." He tried to sound optimistic, but clearly, he too had thought of what this attack meant for Deidara.

"…That means I'm okay, right?" Deidara asked, still a trace of hope left inside of him.

His teacher put his hand on Deidara's head and ruffled his hair slightly, smiling at the boy sympathetically. "…I'm afraid not, Deidara. But...You'll get through it. You're not alone in this, alright? I'm doing everything I can."

"Can we go back now..? …To see my parents?" Deidara asked softly, wanting nothing more than to run into his mother's arms. At this point, Deidara was willing to take any sort of punishment or lecture that his parents could throw at him, as long as he could just return to the only people who tolerated his art.

A shake of the head from Hiroshi extinguished Deidara's already dim hopes.

The artist choked on his next words. "…I can never go back can I?"

Nothing replied to him but silence, but there was no need for an answer; the look of grief on his teacher's face was answer enough.

"…I wish I had killed them…" Deidara growled suddenly, fighting the tears that had begun to leak from his eyes, "I wish they would all just die!" Deidara didn't know what had driven him to say it, and he knew he was being unreasonable, but for once, he wouldn't care if all the world was listening.

"That's an awful thing to say…" Hiroshi replied weakly, unable to think of a way to calm his student.

"I could have killed them long ago!" Deidara began to yell, ignoring his sensei's reply, "Maybe if I had killed them then, I could have avoided this hell that you call life! Why must I continue to live in this world where so many talk of love, or happiness, when I am being held away from those things?"

Hiroshi narrowed his eyes and said sternly, "You know not what you speak of, Deidara… You're fortunate to have a life as privileged as yours."

The boy looked down at the ground, hissing. "My life holds no privileges…only limits…Maybe it's best if I can never go back… now I have the chance to find people that listen."

Deidara's sensei stood slowly, sighed and said, "If you were searching for someone who would listen, Deidara…you never had to look far." Not expecting a reply, Hiroshi began to walk away, calling over his shoulder as he left. "…If it was only an enemy that you were able to find, then that was merely yourself."

Although the words stung, Deidara knew that his teacher was right. Deidara had for so long shut out all connections with the people that he knew, even those that he loved, fearing that he would be ridiculed. One thing that he failed to realize was that he was not only blocking out disappointment, but also happiness. In a sense, Deidara had become his own enemy. Shocked at the truth in Hiroshi's words, Deidara was left sitting in the dirt as he watched his friend begin to disappear behind the trees. "Wait!" he called out suddenly, leaping to his feet and rushing into the woods, "Hiroshi-sensei, wait!"

Hiroshi's reaction was immediate, and he turned around, smiling slightly at Deidara as he approached. "Don't tell me...you've changed your mind?"

Deidara laughed, comforted by his trainer's welcoming eyes and smile. "Yeah...for some reason, living alone and village-less didn't seem very appealing to me. ...So...we're going to make everything okay again, right?"

With a chuckle, Hiroshi knelt in front of Deidara, ruffled his hair and replied, "You can count on it."

Satisfied and for once feeling safe and protected, Deidara walked alongside his teacher, and the two joked and laughed as they always did until the village gates were in sight.

"I'll race you to the village!" Hiroshi challenged, taking off before his student even had a chance to reply.

"Augh-! Wait, I wasn't ready!" Deidara laughed happily, starting to a run.

Much to Deidara's surprise, he actually passed his teacher, who seemed to have tripped and fallen before reaching the gates. Deidara slowed to a stop and jogged next to his sensei, knelt down beside him, then taunted, "Oh come on...I haven't crossed the finish line yet, you're making this too easy!"

Deidara put his hand on Hiroshi's shoulder to try and help him to his feet, then immediately pulled his hand back with a cry of alarm, for Hiroshi's body was covered in crimson red. His neck was slit open, the wound still fresh and gushing warm blood, which now covered Deidara's hands.

From Deidara's lips escaped a sound of mixed horror and sorrow, but the startled boy couldn't even manage a cry for help before a voice cold as ice hissed in his ear and a knife was held threateningly by his neck.

"Prepare to die."


	3. Chapter 3: The Last One

Alriiiiight! Operation Chapter 3 is a go!

Before I begin...

PLEASE FORGIVE ME! TT3TT I took forever to upload this chapter! I got caught up in schoolwork and a huge writer's block...so here's a cupcake to compensate for it.

This chapter contains quite a bit of violence...which I love, so please proceed with caution.

Disclaimer: All content in this story is NOT the way that Masashi Kishimoto intended it! I am just a fan, and this is how I wanted Deidara's background story to go, so please do not think that this actually happened! (Don't be stupid.)

Deidara didn't move. Rather, he _couldn't_ move even if he dared to, for his limbs were frozen with terror. He hardly breathed, and not a part of him stirred aside from his nervous eyes.

His attacker, very much snakelike, slowly began to ease the knife further into Deidara's neck. "Any last words before you die, boy?" he hissed, his voice foul and venomous.

Deidara could think of no words to say, after all, one rarely thinks of what they will do before they die, but even in his panic, he forced himself to think and act clearly. Only mildly shaking as he did so, Deidara began to speak, reaching a hand slowly and stealthily into his clay pocket. "I-I don't think there's much to say…." He said, already having grabbed some clay and forming it in his hand.

"On the contrary…many of my previous opponents had quite a lot to say...about their families…their children…their loved ones… It was a shame I had to silence them early…" the man replied slowly, tensed and dangerous like a snake poised to strike.

"And like your previous opponents…" Deidara retorted, forcing his voice to stay still as he began to ease his clay figure out of his pocket. "I'm afraid, you too must be silenced." Then, in the man's confusion, Deidara tossed the bomb over his shoulder and slid out of his grip, the kunai knife only slightly grazing his neck before he escaped. In a matter of seconds, the explosive had detonated, but Deidara's attacker was still far from defeated.

Furious and bleeding, he attempted to chase after the young man, but soon gave up and settled for shouting, "Well, played, boy! …But we'll see how you fare against a hundred of my kind!" he roared, his sinister laugh ringing in Deidara's ears.

As Deidara fled, he gathered the courage to turn his head and take one quick glance at his slow pursuer's appearance, but just one look proved too overwhelming for the artist. A large portion of the man's face had been rid of flesh, all of it melted away, but still some burnt patches of skin hung off of the wounds. Blood gushed from the man's several other wounds, flowing like a crimson river under his feet. Miraculously, although the effort was horribly labored, he still walked with so little strength that he stumbled and fell, but still attempted to drag himself after the young artist.

Deidara had never thought himself capable of such damage, of such destruction, and oddly enough, most of the boy's disgust was directed not towards the hideous and disgusting sight behind him, but towards his own deadly capabilities.

Still, even with his stomach churning in revulsion, Deidara did not stop running; he swept through the village gates and past many confused villagers until he reached his destination. His home seemed like the only safe place left from the terrifying images in his mind and immediately, with just a step in the door, he felt relieved.

"Father, Mother…Are you here?" he called, rushing throughout the house. His heart was still racing when his father leaped out from behind the doorway.

"Good Lord, Deidara….Where have you been? We've been searching everywhere…." He whispered with conflicting relief and irritation. Deidara's father embraced his son for a moment, then pushed him away and shook him by the shoulders. "Why didn't you come straight home? We could have helped…Oh what does it matter now…Thank god you're back…"

"Father, you have to listen… I-"

His father interrupted before Deidara had a chance to speak. "Your face…you're as pale as death itself…What has happened…? What is wrong?"

Deidara swallowed hard and choked back tears, lowering his gaze to the ground. "…Father…Hirsoshi sensei is…"

A loud clap of thunder drowned out Deidara's words, replacing them soon with panicked screams.

"Ambush! Ambush at the North Gates!" The cry soon echoed amongst the people in the streets, building off of each other until the warning rang from every corner of the streets.

The result was chaos.

Villagers piled out of their homes like frightened animals, only to be met by well-trained swordsmen who killed them within seconds. Screams hung suspended in the air, accompanied by rolling thunder and flashes of lightning. The strongest of men stood helpless in the streets, stripped of their weapons and courage as they stood face to face with death.

The village of the rock was slowly being reduced to sand.

Deidara stood by his father's side, staring out the door, sickened and terrified into immobility by the massive slaughter before him. His terror was so great, in fact, that he hardly recognized his father leaving his side and running outside and towards the gruesome scene.

"Deidara, flee the village! Leave, Go! Don't look back!" Deidara's father called over his shoulder, arming himself with a sword discarded on the blood-soaked earth.

"Wait…Father, no!" he cried, but was soon left stranded, confused and trembling. How long did he stand there? ..Minutes, Hours..? Deidara did not know, but eventually he was brought out of his shock and he slowly began to move. Deidara made his way slowly through the halls of his home, not sure where he was going, but desperate to escape the growing stench of death that hung in the air. Every strained breath made his heart pound louder in his ears until it finally drowned out the sound of the screams in the distance, creating an eerie and perilous silence.

Danger rung loud with each step Deidara took towards the back exit and the wood under his feet creaked loudly. Deidara swallowed and stopped just feet away from the door, every fiber of him screaming to turn away, but his father's words overcame them. _"Don't look back." _The artist swallowed hard and reached his hand towards the handle, but the door began to open before he even had a chance to touch it. With a whimper of panic, Deidara bolted to the nearest room and hid in a small closet, closing the doors and holding his breath.

"Did you hear something?" A tall man wondered gruffly, looking about the house in suspicion.

"You're a fool. All the houses are cleared, so nothing could be in here but money…and money can't talk, dumbass." The other hissed, his voice hauntingly familiar.

"You have no place to insult me with an appearance like that," the tall one chuckled, "Damn, that kid messed you up good…I'm surprised you were able to partially heal the wound, even with your skills. Well, one thing's for sure…no amount of medicine can fix that new hideous face of yours, Ryuu." A threatening growl and a punch across the face silenced the man at once.

"That little brat….when I find him, I'll cut his throat open.." the man named Ryuu snarled, making his way into the room Deidara was hidden in, tearing through drawers and cabinets in search of valuables. Deidara peeked through a small hole in the wooden door, half curious to see if the man who was speaking was the one that he had injured so badly. To his dismay, the man's ugly face matched the mangled one that Deidara had seen just minutes before, but all blood and swelling flesh was cleared mysteriously away; what remained was an ugly, scarred mass of skin. The artist swallowed hard and bit his lip, all hopes of escape lost.

After several minutes of careless plundering through Deidara's family belongings, the tall man laughed noisily and nudged his partner, holding up a picture frame with Deidara's mother and father. "Well would you look at that! It's that blonde girl we killed…She didn't put up much of a fight, did she?"

Immediately, Deidara realized that they were talking about his mother. Fury spread through Deidara's body, blurring his vision and bringing fire to his limbs. As if another power had overcome him, Deidara sprang out of his hiding spot, snatching a carelessly dropped sword from the ground and thrusting it through the tall man's throat, piercing him through the back of the neck.

The man staggered backward after Deidara pulled the sword from his throat, and he held his hands to his neck as blood came gushing out of the wound. What would have been a cry for help came out as a raspy gurgling sound, and the man collapsed onto the floor, drowning in a pool of his own blood.

Ryuu, his partner, could only stand in shock, staring down at his dispatched companion. "I knew you were there," He said at last, drawing a sword from its sheath, "The only reason I didn't alert my cohort here is because I wanted to finish you off myself. Thank you for saving me one kill…I would have killed him before you, but now that he's taken care of…I suppose I have only you to finish off."

"I'd like to see you try!" Deidara snarled, charging at the man without hesitation. Blade met blade with a sharp clash as Ryuu circled around Deidara in his uniquely snake-like fighting stance.

"She was your mother, wasn't she? The woman I killed. I knew from the moment I saw her eyes that she was related to you. I might have spared her otherwise… but I had to get revenge for this curse you cast upon me." Ryuu gestured to his ugly, melted face with a wave of his hand. "How does it feel, boy? …How does it feel to be the one responsible for your own mother's death?"

"Shut up!" The artist roared as he tightened his grip on the sword, deep blue eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"She had an awful lot to say about you, you know. She begged me not to kill her…she said that she had a son that needed her and then she pleaded for me not to harm him…I wonder what she would think of her darling son now that he's a murderer!"

"..I said SHUT UP!" Deidara screamed again, this time aiming his blade at the man's heart.

With ease, Ryuu deflected his attack, knocking his weapon and Deidara to the ground. With his deformed face twisted into a dreadful grin, the man sliced his sword across Deidara's stomach then brought his foot down upon his chest. "Now how about I do exactly what you did to me…Just wait until your father sees his son's corpse with its entire face melted off! They won't even bury you with animals with an appearance so hideous…you'll end up right where you deserve…" Ryuu raised his sword and hung it precariously over Deidara's neck, and with a laugh, brought it down to slice his throat. "…Buried with the garbage!"

Deidara closed his eyes and braced himself for his experience of death, but to his surprise, the pain never came. _"Is death really this sudden and painless…?"_ He wondered for a moment, until he had the courage to open his eyes.

His father, his hair and his clothes disheveled, was standing above Deidara, holding back Ryuu's blade with his bare hands and gritting his teeth. "You will keep your hands off him!" he roared with a voice too enraged for Deidara to recognize, slowly raising the sword with his bleeding hands.

"What a determined father!" Ryuu laughed sinisterly, smiling so wide that part of his wounds opened up, causing blood to drip from his deformed face, "I'll have fun killing you!"

Deidara felt that familiar rage creep up in his chest, and he began to crawl to retrieve the sword when he heard his father's voice cry out.

"Deidara, no! This isn't your fight! Run, just go!" Deidara's father screamed, his strength beginning to falter as the sword cut deeper into his hands.

"Go ahead and run boy! Leave your father to die!" Ryuu laughed again, more violently this time.

"Don't listen to him! It doesn't matter what happens to me, I will not let you die! Now go!"

Reluctantly, Deidara turned to flee, tears streaming hot down his face as a flash of lightning illuminated the room, the silhouette of a sword piercing through his father's body projected on the wall. The sight was soon accompanied by an agonized scream, confirming that Deidara's worst fears had become true.

He was the only one left.


End file.
